


Masquerading As a Man with a Reason

by Eye_of_the_Dragon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Sad Sammy, Self Harm, Teen!Chester, Teenchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 13:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eye_of_the_Dragon/pseuds/Eye_of_the_Dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is depressed, John is a dick, Dean is awesome. Short one shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masquerading As a Man with a Reason

Masquerading As a Man with a Reason

 

To say Sam hated himself was an understatement, he loathed himself. He was so disappointed in everything he’d done, he tries to get good grades to make up for the fact that he’s a horrible hunter, but nothing works. He will always feel low about himself, because truth is he’ll never be as good as Dean.   
He stared in the mirror as he brushed his hair, his eyes were dark and his cheeks were starting to sink from the lack of sleep and food. His pants had become far too big and his sweater hung around him loosely. His father and Dean were on a hunting trip and hadn’t been home in a few weeks, the words John had said before he left ripped through Sam’s body. ‘Why can’t you be more like Dean?’ Of course Dean was out of ear shot when this was said, but that was the question that played over in his mind every time he’d done something wrong.   
School started three hours ago and Sam had just managed to pull himself from bed and get showered. But he wasn’t going anyways. Not like his dad would care. Instead he spent his time staring hollowly off into the distance or cleaning weapons. He cleaned the same one every day, because no matter how many times he cleaned it his blood always ended up on the blade; funny how the only thing that took away his pain was more pain.  
The ringing of the phone brought Sam out of his daze as he went to answer it he breathed in deeply and rolled his shoulders back. Look confident, feel confident, and sound confident. He chanted to himself as he picked up the phone. “Hello?” His voice almost sounded real, almost. And luckily he was talking to his dad and not Dean, because there is no way Dean wouldn’t notice. “We’re done with the hunt, we’ll be home soon. Wait- shouldn’t you be at school?” His father asked sounding a little pissed. 'Funny, you call while I should be at school and I get in trouble for answering?' Sam thought bitterly. “It’s between classes right now sir.” Sam lied smoothly. The grunt on the other line told Sam that John believed him. And then, without so much as a good bye, John hung up.   
Sam cleaned the rest of the motel so when John got home he had no reason to bitch. Sam hadn’t been eating much lately so there was money to buy beer and put it in the fridge. He made sure that there was absolutely no reason for John to be angry at him when he got home, but knowing his luck he would find something.   
John hadn’t lied; the two older Winchesters were home by eight. They brought home burgers and a salad for Sam, but Sam wasn’t hungry.   
“Why aren’t you eating Sammy? Are you feeling alright?” Dean asked placing the back of his hand on Sam’s forehead. “M’fine.” Sam muttered avoiding Dean’s questioning gaze, knowing damn well that if Dean saw how tired he really looked he’d be screwed. “Bull shit man. Come on, what is it? Is it a girl? Bullies again? Tell me.” Dean said not giving up, knowing his little brother needed his help. Sam laughed bitterly; of course it wasn’t anyone else this time. It was their own father. But Sam couldn’t tell Dean, he couldn’t ruin the man’s hero image.   
“Sammy, don’t lie to me. You’re hurting about something, and after all the time I’ve spent trying to keep you happy, don’t keep something like this from me man.” Dean practically begged, of course he wouldn’t be doing this if John was home, luckily he wasn’t, he was of getting drunk at the local bar. “Damnit Dean! Stop worrying about me I’m fine.” Sam knew he was being mean, but he didn’t need Dean worrying about him. This was his problem. Not Dean’s.   
Dean watched as Sam got up and went over and sat on the bed, but something caught his eye. It was small and if Dean hadn’t raised Sam, he probably wouldn’t notice. But he did, and what he saw made him so many emotions all at once; angry, sad, confused but most of all worried.   
“Sammy? What is that?” Dean asked as he got up, slowly approaching his brother. Sam cocked his head to the side and gave Dean a strange look. “What are you talking about?” Sam said, genuinely confused. But also scared out of his mind, because the only time Dean ever looked like this was when Sam’s health was in danger.   
And just like that, before Sam had time to react Dean grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled up his sleeve. What he sees horrifies him and terrifies him all at once. Littering his baby brother’s arm are about thirty scars, ranging in size from about two-six inches each. When he checked the other arm, it wasn’t nearly as bad, only five scars. Dean assumed it was because it was easier to do the other one.   
“What were you thinking Sammy?” Dean asked as his voice broke, he had to remind himself to stay strong and keep up his act for Sammy. “Because I’m not you, I’ll never be as good as you.” Sam whispered the words his father had said so many times before. Dean’s jaw dropped and he scooped up his not-so-little-little-brother into his arms holding him tight to his chest. “Sam, you might not be the best hunter, but man you are the smartest person I know. You do amazing research and always know what we’re hunting, you can always figure out the best and most efficient ways to getting the job done. Sammy, you’re good at what you do. You might not be me, but sometimes I wish I was you.” Dean said, his voice was sincere, and it broke his heart to hear Sam sobbing into his chest. “You have to stop thinking so low of yourself, Sammy; I don’t want to lose my brother.” Dean whispered and rubbed a soothing hand on Sam’s back.   
The two of them stayed like that for a long time, Dean rocking back and forth softly. It was around twelve at night before Sam had cried himself to sleep in Dean’s arms. And things might not be perfect, but from here on out Dean was going to make sure Sam never felt so low again. He couldn’t lose his little brother, not after everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Heey! Please comment? <3 Constructive criticism is aloud, but please don't be rude <3


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